


Fool

by falsteloj



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst, Conversations, Cultural Differences, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Romance, Yuletide, Yuletide 2012, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak reflects that, on Cardassia, it all would have been obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gryvon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/gifts).



> Yuletide 2012 treat for gryvon. Hope you enjoy! :)

Back on Cardassia it would have been obvious.

So obvious it hardly bore thinking about, not for a man such as he. A man who had once fought so hard to uphold the subtle interplay of the Cardassian way of life. What was said aloud rarely reflected what the speaker actually meant on Cardassia, while the inner self was something private and precious, only ever to be viewed in fleeting glimpses - if at all.

Humans, in contrast, were absurdly simple and straightforward. Even now Julian sat before him wearing an open smile, eyes bright as he gave his honest opinion on the events of his day, and the slim volume of Cardassian poetry Garak had pressed upon him under the guise of broadening his education.

“You will scoff at this, no doubt,” Julian said, determined yet self-effacing, “but it read to me as if Nevik was madly in love with Thelin.”

Garak allowed himself a hint of a smile, even as the shock of hearing his own truth of the tome stated so bluntly reverberated through him. On Cardassia such an unambiguous interpretation would be a shameless invitation. Here, on a far flung Federation space station, it was his pulse alone that quickened at hearing the words fall from the doctor’s perfectly formed lips.

“And what,” Garak asked, outwardly calm, “led you to that conclusion?”

Julian hurried to explain his reasoning and Garak thought, not for the first time, how truly fragile humans were. Not only in flesh but in attitude. A few cutting words would be all it took to see the other man’s expression fall, to witness the flash of hurt in his eyes.

On Cardassia he would push, savour the sweet taste of victory. Here the very idea was distasteful, as though Julian were some delicate bauble to be wrapped securely in layers of Arcadian fine-spun. Perhaps, Garak conceded, the suggestion wasn’t so fanciful. Julian was attractive, in an exotic way that would make his kinsmen burn to raise colourful bruises across his unblemished skin. Yet the fantasies Garak would never admit to entertaining were careful and tender. He would submit to Julian gladly. Would do anything the younger man wanted, no matter how taboo or degrading it would be considered on his homeworld.

It wasn’t difficult to dream up possibilities. He had made the mistake, in the early months of their acquaintance, of allowing Julian to recommend to him what he considered to be the high points of human cinematic endeavour. The plots had been childishly transparent, laughable even. But the imagery had been overwhelming; expanses of soft flesh that left Garak as undone as a boy, unable to prevent himself from conjuring up imagined scenes of Julian, flushed and breathless, trembling as Garak sank to his knees before him.

It had been at Garak’s suggestion that their lunchtime debates returned to the merits of literature.

In the present Julian was leaning across the table, too close and too intimate, enthusiastically laying out his arguments. “And, then, when Thelin’s crimes are discovered, Nevik steps forward and asks to share his punishment.”

Garak took a sip of his drink, careful to give nothing away as he held the young man’s gaze. “My dear doctor, your approach is, as usual, entirely too human. Nevik is concerned only for the stability of the state, for the need to prove that ignorance cannot excuse one from one’s duties and responsibilities.”

There was doubt, even, that Nevik had ever been blind to Thelin’s criminal nature, but that was a discussion for another day. Garak was too busy watching the flurry of emotions cross Julian’s face - too busy attempting to cling to his own control, and not throw caution to the wind to put it all before Julian. Because, where a Cardassian would mislead and obfuscate, the reality of Julian’s feelings would be laid bare, no matter how Julian tried to hide them.

Julian, oblivious to his turmoil, smiled at him, boyish and eager. “Ah, but when Nevik is offered the chance to return to Cardassia - and the commissioner wouldn’t have asked him if he wasn’t _needed_ \- he chooses to turn his back on everything he knows to stay in exile with Thelin. It's romantic even by human standards.” The doctor sounded almost breathless with anticipation of his answer, so certain that his logic was infallible.

Garak wondered, for a moment, if it were possible he had been misreading - underestimating - Julian. If Julian had any idea of that volume’s reputation on Cardassia. Of the way he had had to read it in secret as a boy, thrilling with the illicit pleasure of reading something so novel, and so outside the normal scope of Cardassian story telling. It was said, by the state, to be completely unsuitable for impressionable young minds; Garak couldn’t say that his case was evidence against the point.

Then the idea was gone and, hating himself for his weakness, Garak found himself saying,

“Though your arguments are charmingly simplistic, Doctor, perhaps you have hit upon a valid interpretation.”

Julian positively beamed, face transformed, and Garak knew that he was in far too deep. He wanted an ending that would never be. That Julian would not - and could not - give him. Garak couldn’t turn away and move on, and he couldn’t - wouldn’t - force a conclusion either. So, Julian’s commbadge sounded like a hundred times before, and Garak nodded his acceptance of Julian’s apologies, just as he had a hundred times before.

Except this time Julian laid a hand on his shoulder, the heat feeling like a brand, and murmured seriously,

“You don’t have to be lonely in exile, Garak.”

It meant nothing and everything. Verbal proof of Julian’s obsessive need to be liked, and physical evidence of the strength of feeling that had grown between them. Their friendship. It wasn’t enough, and it was too much. He ached for Julian, desperately, hopelessly. Yet hope still flickered brightly enough in his breast to ensure he would continue to seek Julian out. Continue to pine, and wait, and wonder.

Back on Cardassia he would have been making a fool of himself.

Here he was simply a fool.

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


End file.
